


Kintsugi

by InterNutter



Category: The Adventure Zone (Podcast)
Genre: Angst, Found Family, Gen, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, currently unfinished
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-31
Updated: 2019-11-10
Packaged: 2021-01-15 07:30:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 13,166
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21249698
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/InterNutter/pseuds/InterNutter
Summary: Another AU that's DualityAndSuch/Lampersand's fault. ::points @ her:: she made me do it. There are other Elves who survived Saint Vingo's and one of them 'just happens' to be in Kalen's staff. She's a "graduate" which basically means 'flesh automaton' as far as everyone else is concerned. Fortunately Magnus Burnsides accidentally gives her permission to become a person. It's a long and rocky road, all the same.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: The McElboys own the universe, I just play with words and get paid in adoration and screams.

Of fucking course Kalen had a half-Elf servant. She was quiet, and dressed in a neat maid’s uniform. Magnus tried to talk to her, but she moved like an automaton. When she lifted her skirts, he half expected to see wheels under there. Magnus may not want to live, what with Julia gone, but he didn’t exactly want to die. Not yet.

Not without spitting in that despot’s eye, first.

“Hey,” he said as she passed gruel and water through the bars. “Do you have a name? Mine’s Magnus.”

There was something strange about the look in her eyes. Haunted. Afraid. They were eyes that had already seen too much.

“You don’t have to be afraid,” he said.

She curtseyed and went back the way she came.

Somewhere upstairs, Kalen was deciding how Magnus was going to die. It could take him weeks to find the perfect blend of sadism and gruesome example. Seeing one of their own getting messily and horribly killed was supposed to stop any further rebellions. So far, it didn’t seem to be working.

Magnus rebelled because Kalen and his cronies killed Julia. Julia rebelled because of what Kalen had done to her father. If only the chain became something bigger, wider, and more popular. If only they had had an entire revolt. If only…

He sighed and ate the gruel, saving the water for true thirst. Though his grandfather’s knife was useless for helping his escape, it was okay for whittling. That gave him something to do, at least, whilst he was waiting for his fate.

* * *

“Thanks for the food,” said Magnus. “Can you talk at all? Tell me your name.”

She pushed the gruel and water bucket through the bars. She had a bracelet on, which she twiddled with. A silver strip held on with woven silk cords that matched her uniform.

Magnus rolled high on Perception, and saw that there were letters on it. “That’s a name they gave you, isn’t it? You can tell me.”

Nod.

“But it’s not your name.”

Nod.

He cleared off some dirt and found a sturdy enough piece of straw. “You can write it.”

She wrote it in Elven. Mak’arune.

“Mak’arune,” he cooed, reading the delicate swirls. “That’s a pretty name. Thanks for telling me, Mak’arune.”

That might have been a smile on her impassive and immobile face, but he couldn’t tell in the poor light.

Magnus had a project, now. Working on something for someone else always helped him feel better, no matter what his situation was. No matter what anyone’s situation was, a person deserved to have their own name. Elven on one side, so she could read it, and Common on the other, so anyone who cared could read it.


	2. Chapter 2

“Here. Take it. It’s yours,” he said, offering his work through the bars. It was carved wood, and the cord was made of strips he’d torn from his shirt. Not the best he’d ever done, but… “It was the best I could do.”

Usually dead eyes flared in wonder. For a moment, there was a spark of life in there. She put it around her left wrist while the silver one was on her right. She lingered from her on-the-rails life, holding his hand and looking pleadingly into his eyes.

“I know… You can’t do a lot for me. Look. If you  _ can _ get me outta here…  _ Safely, _ that’d be… Well, I’d really like it. Don’t take any unnecessary risks, okay?”

She let him go, twiddling with her bracelets, and got back onto her rails.

Three nights later, they escaped.

He had his grandfather’s blade, the rags he was dressed in, and a new friend. She had packed a bindle containing three ration packs, a loaf of bread, five candles, and a money pouch that contained mostly coppers and spare buttons.

Most importantly, he had a new friend.

He couldn’t have asked for anything better.

* * *

Fortunately for their tiny party, Magnus had proficiency in Survival skills. He found all kinds of forage to eat. Mak’arune was more than adept at cooking it, even though they had little to cook it all in.

“Okay,” he said, helping turn some of Mak’arune’s excellent Forage Kabobs. “I think I figured it out. You follow instructions. Everything you do, I’ve… told you. So…” He held her hands and looked into her eyes. “You can do anything you want to do from now on. You tell yourself your own instructions. Got it?”

The same blank stare that she always had. The same stillness in face and body. If there was a smile on those lips, it might be Magnus’ imagination. 

“Also, you’re allowed to talk. Any time. About anything.”

She let go of his hands and got back to cooking the food.

Magnus sighed. “Just follow your heart and try some spontaneity, okay?”

As always, Mak’arune didn’t say a word.

He tried not to feel bad about it, but he had to say it. “You’re broken… and I dunno where to start fixing you. I’m gonna keep tryin’a help you anyway.”

If she heard, if she understood, Mak’arune gave no sign.

“I’m not giving up,” said Magnus. “We’ll keep working in it.”

* * *

“Breakfast,” said Mak’arune.

“Hey, that was two whole syllables,” Magnus smiled. They were still on the run from Kalen. “I know you usually stick to one. This is progress. This is good.”

“Good,” said Mak’arune.

“Now we just gotta work on the echolalia,” he smiled. It was a good breakfast. Their travels had secured a little this and that. Over the last few years, they had become way more prepared for living in the wilderness or being travelling adventurers. Heck, he’d even got some light armour for Mak’arune and a Cloak of Elven Kind.

“Eat,” said Mak’arune.

Magnus grinned, saluting. “Yes, ma’am.” He dug in. “Mmm-mm. Delicious as always.”

“Good,” said Mak’arune. She didn’t need to be told to eat any more. That always raised more than a few eyebrows on the odd occasions that he worked with others. That was progress, too.

“There’s a town a couple of days east of here,” he said. “They could have some work. What do you say? Do you want to try civilisation again?”

Mak’arune had impeccable manners, even at a campsite. She chewed and swallowed her current mouthful. “Yes.”

“Cool. I’ll help pack when we’re all done.”

“Sing?”

Wow. That was a whole request. “You’ll regret it,” he warned. That was all she got before he hit her with his rendition -as in, to tear asunder-  _ Mareseydoats. _

Surprisingly, she started to clap along.

* * *

One day’s travel out of Thallewind, Magnus woke up to discover they had one more party member. Mak’arune was humming an aimless tune that always came close to recognisable melodies, but nevertheless ended up missing. She had a small, slightly ragged urchin on her lap, whom she was feeding some leftovers they were planning to breakfast on.

The tiny urchin had positively huge glasses on. Wire frames and cheap lenses. The kid gasped when he noticed Magnus woke up.

This was a time for careful diplomacy. “Did you… did he come by in the night?”

“Found,” said Mak’arune, evidently pleased with herself. “Baby.”

She didn’t look like she was in Luume. She could still have had an episode, so he carefully asked, “Is he your baby?”

Mak’arune shook her head. “Baby,” she said.

“Hello, sir,” said the urchin. “My name’s Angus and I was lost in the woods, and then this nice lady found me and helped me out. If you can get me to the Sunshine Home for Abandoned Children, I can be out of your hair.”

“No,” said Mak’arune, abandoning feeding the boy to wrap him up in her arms. “Safe. Stay.”

“Looks like she wants to keep you,” said Magnus. Gods, he was going to have to work harder with  _ two _ mouths to feed.  _ Or, _ he could take the kid back to the Sunshine Home and clear the entire mess up. “How’d you get lost in the woods, kid?”

“Oh, Nurse Stronginthearm took me out for a Nature walk, and she told me to find twenty unique leaves and when I was done, she was gone.”

Well  _ that _ didn’t sound as fishy as hell. Mak’arune seemed to have the same chain of thought, judging by the look in her eyes. “We can probably get close to there and see if they’re missing you,” he allowed. “The people who care would be looking everywhere and calling your name. Shit. We don’t even know your name.”

“Forgive my bad manners, sir. My name’s Angus McDonald.”

Magnus held out his hand, “Magnus Burnsides.”

Mak’arune offered the wrist with the wooden plaque on it, turning it to the side that was in Common. “Mak’arune.”

Magnus started to pack up. He could skip a breakfast. “Now we all know each other, let’s get on into town Sunshine Home’s in Thallewind, right?”

“Yessir.”

“No,” said Mak’arune, “No Sunshine.”

Well. Someone turned into a chatty charlie. Magnus smirked. “We should at least tell them he’s been found. They’re bound to be worried about you, ya little dickens.”

“I guess so, sir.”

Mak’arune still clung to Angus, she said, “Bad place…”

Magnus snorted. “It’s a  _ home… _ What could possibly be bad about a home?”


	3. Chapter 3

He shouldn’t have asked.

Sunshine Home for Abandoned Children was grey and dismal. Even the dirt was grey. The whole place was depressing, and cold, and full of children four years and younger. Angus might be tiny, but he was still bigger than any other kid lingering in that nasty old yard. Not by  _ much, _ but it still looked like Sunshine had a height limit and an age limit.

“Bad place,” whispered Mak’arune. “Bad place. Citron. Run.”

On one hand, it was nice to hear Mak’arune say more than three words in a row, but… She was clearly terrified. “Okay. You go hide with Angus, and I’ll talk to one of the adults. I’m pretty good at playing the fool.” He smoothed Mak’arune’s hair and brushed her cheek. “It’s going to be okay.”

Mak’arune huddled in the underbrush, clinging to Angus, and whispered, “Okay.”

He strode out of the woods and into the cleared verge where travellers were wont to stop and camp. Once he was in full view of their towers  _ (Why would an orphanage have archer’s towers? _ He wondered) he raised an arm to wave. He could play the fool, but he much preferred to play the Clueless Doofus. It had saved his life more often than not.

“Hallo there,” he called. “Hail and well-met! I think I saw one of your kids wandering around out in the woods and--” an arrow stopped him cold, and a guard was already approaching him. No swords were drawn, but Magnus knew his was ready in a moment. He still played the Clueless Doofus. “Hey, it’s okay. I’m just a wandering adventurer, slash sellsword and I want to help.” He smiled for the approaching guardsman. “Hi. I saw one of your kids wandering around in the woods out there, but I couldn’t round him up on my own. About yea high,” he gestured with a hand. “Dark skin, glasses… looked maybe a little Elvish? He was wearing the same grey clothes your kids have on and I thought maybe I could help you get him back to safety…”

“Walk on,” said the guard.

“What? But one of your kids is lost in the woods. He’s all alone and scared and everything.”

“We can’t justify the expense of that one. Let the wolves eat him or the Elves steal him. He’s not our problem any more. Walk. On.” This time, his hand was where his blade be at.

“Got it,” said Magnus, backing away. He didn’t quite go back the way he came, but he sure as shit made certain it looked like he wasn’t headed towards Thallewind. He circled back to where Mak’arune was hiding with Angus. “You were right. That is a bad place. Come on, Angus. You’re unofficially adopted.”

Like the kid on the beach throwing starfish into the ocean, Magnus couldn’t save them all. But he could save  _ this _ one.

* * *

Life was good for Angus McDonald. The first thing that happened in Thallewind was that he got new clothes and a Starter Kit so that he could be prepared for travelling in the wild on foot. The second thing that happened was that he got to stay in an Inn with Miss Mak’arune whilst Mr Burnsides went off to look for itinerant adventuring that required a Fighter.

The second thing that happened was that there was the travelling cooking show.  _ Sizzle it Up! With Taako _ cost a penny per seat per showing, children under half adult size were free so long as they perched on a caregiver’s lap, and everyone got one sample serving for free. The show was brilliantly eye-catching and the food… oh, the  _ food… _

It was so good that Angus was driven to tears.

Miss Mak’arune made excellent food, way better than the Home’s gruel, but… This was as close as he could get to heaven without dying first. He could understand the old stories about people withering away for the want of Fae-cooked food.

“Sad?” asked Miss Mak’arune. “Bad?”

“No,” he said, tears still running. “It’s so  _ good.” _

Magnus was similarly stricken, when he came to the dinner show. Whatever adventuring he had done had paid him enough to get some supplies, but not enough to rent a room. “It’s so weird,” he managed, voice thick with emotion, “it tastes like  _ home…” _

It wasn’t enough for a whole meal. Shows like this were wont to assume that people who passed through for samples still had a dinner on the hob at home. So the three of them attempted to scam a second helping by zipping around to the back of the queue and hoping that nobody would remember them by the time they got up to the front. The trenchers were made out of a hard, thick bread that needed a lot of chewing, but it was still delicious for all that effort. Angus worried bits off of them with his fingers and held them in his mouth until they melted. Even the cutlery was edible for those who had strong teeth. The little improvised family hid those in their pockets with any leftover trencher pieces as they drew closer to the serving window once again.

The assistant, a big, bulky Humanman who also ran the merch table, got real angry at them. “Tuppence for second helpings,” he said. “Each.”

The beautiful Elf dishing up portions noticed them. “Hey, it’s Lunk McGunk. There’s three of you now. Suzu, stop being a dick. We’ve got plenty. It’s not a good look for a fucking  _ cooking show _ to send people away hungry.” He handed across three servings. “Any kind donations m’dude?”

“Sorry, we’re trying to get enough to have a bed for the night.”

Taako snorted. “Gods, I remember that mood. Eat. Then y’all should try the temples.”

“That was going to be our next stop.”

“Stop by camp after the rush. We can catch up. You can help Saze eat the leftovers.”

That earned Taako a death glare from the Humanman assistant.

Angus learned a lot, that day. He learned that Taako had met Magnus before, shortly after the Human fighter had found Mak’arune, but before Taako had found Sazed. He learned that Taako just… never used real names if he could help it. He also learned something significant about Miss Mak’arune.

It happened over more leftovers, whilst Magnus was recounting some of his adventures, and Mr Sazed was attempting to be friendly with Miss Mak’arune, who was having none of it.

“Jeez, what’s the matter with you? You don’t  _ have _ to be cold.”

Taako spoke up. “Suzan, keep your hands to yourself. She’s survived Saint Vingo’s.”

This cooled things off more than a little for Mr Sazed. “That’s one of their mind-slaves? I thought they were so useless, they were basket cases.”

“Recovery is possible,” said Magnus. “You just need a lot of patience, empathy, and understanding.”

“True,” said Taako, sipping his tea.

“It’s creepy,” said Sazed, chewing on one of his helpings. “Those Vingo’s meat-puppets should’a all been mercy killed on release.”

There was an entirely different mood around the campfire. Despite the warm, summer night, the temperature dropped like a stone. Taako glared at Mr Sazed. Magnus glared at Mr Sazed. Miss Mak’arune glared at Mr Sazed.

“Wha’?” he said with his mouth full.

“I certainly hope you’re not planning to act on that opinion,” said Taako, his voice dripping with an odd combination of both honey and vitriol. “Because that list of so-called meat-puppets includes  _ your fucking boss.” _

“What?  _ You? _ But you’re…” he waved his hands in the air, “together.”

“It’s called  _ acting _ for a reason, Suze. I think you’ve had your fill. Go wash the pots. And the stove. And the entire fucking set.  _ Thank _ you.”

Angus said, “What’s Saint Vingo’s?”

“Bad,” said Miss Mak’arune.

“Someone tried to reform delinquent Elven youth, a ways back,” said Taako. “They… weren’t nice about it. Manipulation, mind control, torture… all sorts of bullshit. I only got as far as level two before the whole place burned down.”

Miss Mak’arune showed her fingers. Ten, then five. Fifteen.

Taako hissed in sympathy. “You’re doing great, there. Real progress. It’s good to know there’s hope for those survivors who were only a  _ little _ fucked with.”

They got a good meal out of the conversation, and free  _ Sizzle it Up! _ Fantasy tee shirts. Angus was offered a Taako dolly with pan-flipping action, but he politely declined on account of how they were still travelling and didn’t have a home yet. Dollies and their parts could easily get lost between here, there, and somewhere else.

He didn’t want to say that he had no desire to own a Sizzlin’ Taako Action Figure.

The world was a happier place when they walked away. Angus knew, for example, that shitty places like Sunshine Home eventually got found out, and then shut down. He learned that recovery was possible for people like Miss Mak’arune, even if it did take quite a long time and even more patience. He even learned that there was love in the world for orphans like himself.

Magnus taught him to read, in the evenings, and Angus soon graduated from reading primers through kid’s novellas all the way up to chunky tomes of novels.

When Magnus was off being a sellsword, Miss Mak’arune usually paid for their rooms with work in the kitchen. Angus would read a chapter of whatever he happened to be working through and things were better than they had ever been in his entire life.

Then they had a run-in with a guy called Governor Kalen.

He wasn’t a governor any more, owing to the fact that he had all but destroyed the town he governed - Ravensroost. Nevertheless, he still had titles and power where Magnus did not. Miss Mak’arune had been busy in the kitchens again and one of the other cooks send Angus off on a gopher mission. Go to the butcher’s with some coin and fetch a side of meat for the spit. It promised to be tough going on the way back, since even a partial pig was almost too much weight for him to carry.

He did his best to be fast, since Miss Mak’arune tended to fret when he was out of her sight for too long, but the directions were more than a little confounding and though he was  _ certain _ he followed them to the letter, he couldn’t find the place Cookie had spoken of.

Therefore, he sought out one of the Town Watch. “Excuse me, sir. I’m looking for the butcher’s that’s supposed to be at twenty-five sweetheart lane? Can you help me find it, please?”

“Twenty-five Sweetheart Lane, is it?” roared the guard. In retrospect, it was almost like he was alerting some conspirators, but at the moment, it just seemed like he was super loud from maybe moonlighting as the Town Cryer. “Follow me, then!”

Angus did that. He didn’t even know it was a mistake to follow a complete stranger down a narrow alley. He would be lucky to learn it after the sleeping dart hit him square in the jugular.

Darkness there, and nothing more.


	4. Chapter 4

Oh no. He was back. He had found her. Mak’arune knew this because someone had dressed her in her old maid’s outfit while she’d been out from the sleep potion. He hadn’t tied her up because he never expected her to escape. He was unwilling to admit that she might have learned some free will.

The room was small. Just big enough to turn around in, and painted in Institutional Cream. The bed was small and simple, and what there was of a closet only held two more maid’s uniforms. There were no bookshelves because Kalen didn’t expect her to read. Nor did he expect her to have keepsakes. There was a sewing kit and a basket… and the chamber pot… Nothing else.

Mak’arune checked her wrists. The hand-carved wooden plaque with her name on it was gone. It its place was the fine silver chain and the silver tablet bearing her slave name. Mary. No thought had gone into that name. No long meditation on meaning or what a gift the name could be. Nothing more simple than the thought that it was a common name with the same first letter as the one she had for herself.

He could put that name in Platinum, spell it out in jewels, or write it in the stars themselves, and Mak’arune wouldn’t care a fig for it. It was not her real name.

_ My name is Mak’arune. I am free to choose what I do, _ she reminded herself.

He could force her back into the mould that Saint Vingo’s had put her through, but she knew where the cracks were. She could break free.

Mak’arune tested the door.

It wasn’t locked. It didn’t even have a latch. He really didn’t expect her to do anything for herself. There were no guards and she doubted anyone else would be hidden away in the servant’s quarters.

She was used to being quiet, and ghosted her way through twisting corridor after turning hall. Checking all the rooms and byways in this old house. It had once been some form of halfway home, judging by the shade of cream painted on the walls, but there was no-one living there now. Some brigands had moved into some of the cells, and some were fixing up the place to become a mansion of sorts, but… it had long been abandoned from its original purpose.

She knew places like this. They filled her nightmares.

If anyone else was a captive, they would be downstairs. Where Citron had kept those on the lower levels. Where the naughtiest children could be kept in cages or worse.

Mak’arune nearly made it to the stairs, but there was Kalen. His robes were not as rich as they once were. His velvet less pristine and his linens less neat. He had holes in his hose and those shoes had seen more mud than they should have for his noble birth and status. She reached for her bracelet and instead of touching warm wood encountered cold silver.

It was like all that time with Magnus had never happened.

Her brain filled with fog. Her heart filled with terror. She could feel the need to run drain out of her. She could feel her tongue freeze up. She could feel her legs bend in a subservient curtsey.

Three seconds. Less than that, even, and all the time between Ravensroost and now might well have never happened.

All the progress she had made, drained away like sand from the upper side of an hourglass.

Her master smiled. Her master was pleased. Her master said, “Ah, so you did miss me.”

Mak’arune didn’t move. She couldn’t move. Mak’arune wasn’t in charge any more. It was Mary’s turn. Mary didn’t move unless her master told her to.

Her master smelled of cheap wine and cheaper outhouses. He smelled of rot. He smelled… unwashed. Close to, she could see that there were multiple food stains on his clothes. He hadn’t changed them for  _ weeks. _ Mak’arune wanted to throw up on him and see if it made a difference. Mary politely stilled her breath to shallow, almost nothing, and waited.

Her master lifted her chin and made her face turn to his. He was filthy and Mak’arune wanted to wash his gaze off her skin. “Found you,” he cooed. “That nasty little rebel thinks he can steal what’s mine and get away with it. He’s not going to be thinking for long.”

Mak’arune squealed and howled and  _ fought _ for Mary to say just one thing. One  _ important _ thing. “Ba...by?”

This shocked him more than would a Shocking Grasp or a Lightning Strike. “That was a  _ word,” _ he seemed astounded. “What did you say, my dear?”

“Ba...by.”

“Baby,” he echoed. “You mean that little half-Elf urchin that the rebel dotes on?”

Mak’arune and Mary nodded together. They could agree that this was important.

Another smile that made Mak’arune want to vomit. “So. He has more value than just as leverage against the rebel. Excellent. Here’s the new contract, then. You get to see him once a day,” he seemed pleased when her heart leaped,  _ “if _ you are good. Do everything I say. Never speak another word. Never use your magic against me… and his safety is guaranteed. Do you understand?”

Mak’arune closed her mouth and nodded.

“Kiss me,” he said.

She put her lips to his greasy, filthy palm. Mary kept her eyes blank and uncomprehending. Mak’arune, lurking underneath, was trying to come up with a plan. She wanted nothing more than to get to Angus and make certain he was safe. She knew Kalen knew that, too.

She would never know how well or ill Angus was doing, no matter how much she showed obeissance. Mak’arune knew this. Mary, on the other hand, was both in charge and easily convinced.

Mak’arune sunk lower and lower, doing less and less.

Citron’s hold was harder to shake when the master was present.

* * *

Taako handed off his latest basket of groceries to Suzu without even thinking about it. He had seen someone who he counted as a friend, and those were pretty rare. He could talk to Saze every day, but friends he met again were like unexpected diamonds.

Mango was seated on a stoop and holding a piece of paper with a shaking hand. He looked pretty well torn up in the heart department. Defs needed cheering up. “What’s shakin’, Lunk McGunk? Apart from the hands, there.”

Mango kept shuddering for a minute.

“Mango? Sideburns? A-- are you doing okay? Need me to fetch someone?”

The big lug sniffed. “He took them. He took them both.”

“Who?” said Taako

“Angus… and Mak’arune. Look…” He handed over the note.

Taako read,  _ Since you insist on stealing my property, I have stolen yours. Bring all your gold and your sword if you want the mongrel boy to live. _ There was an address, but no mention of Maks. “Uh,” he said, “There’s no mention of your girl, there.”

“...property,” mumbled Mags. “He still thinks of her… as his  _ property.” _ He wiped his face. “You were there. You know what they did to people in that place. You saw what they were like when they came out…”

Taako shuddered. “Yeah. In my nightmares, on the reg.”

“She was still like that when I met her.”

Oh. Oh shit. Oh  _ SHIT. _ “Fuck me sideways, I totally forgot about that horseshit…” Belatedly, he remembered his manners. “Sorry about that, hombre. Lingering scars inside the noggin and all. Listen. Obvi, this scum sucker’s prepared for you. So… How about I come with. I can defs pull a few tricks they’re not expecting. Help out a little.”

“But… you’re a  _ chef. _ What can you possibly  _ do?” _

He cast Prestidigitation, creating an actual egg that could fall and break, right above Mango’s head. It took one turn to do that, and then vanished. “Correction, Sugar. I’m a chef,  _ and _ a wizard. I can have three of those going per turn.”

There was just something wonderful about watching this lug cheer the fuck up. Something familiar, but not too familiar. It was weird. Nice, in it’s way, but… weird. He barely knew the guy. Still, he felt like he  _ had _ to go help a fellow St Vingo’s alumni. “Just lemme get changed before we go charging off, okay, champ?”

“Changed?” echoed the big Humanman. “There’s lives on the line and you need to get  _ changed?” _

"Please. The correct ensemble is vital for adventuring. I'm not gonna mess up my Chef's Whites with some asshole's  _ blood, _ my dude..." He started walking at a quickened pace towards his camp. Maggie tagging along in confusion. “Anyway, it’s just my Road Clothes. Won’t be a tick.”

It was the quickest change he had ever managed, leaving his Chef’s Whites on the bed for Suzy to pick up and hopping into his Road Clothes as fast as possible. He tucked his hair into a lazy bun under his wizarding hat and made certain he had his wand close to hand and his spellbook by his side. It didn’t take a tick, but he  _ was _ done in less than ten minutes.

“Lead on, champ,” he breezed. “We got us a family to rescue.” For the first time in his life, Taako rushed in, and not away.


	5. Chapter 5

Angus woke up in a stone cell with bars on the windows and replacing one of the walls. He’d never been in an actual dungeon before, but this? This was already fifty times better than the Quiet Room. Hell, it was about five times better than the boy’s ward in Sunshine Home.

He had clean water, a bed with a fresh mattress, and even the floor had clean rushes strewn about. If he had come here straight from Sunshine, he’d have thought he was blessed.

But now?

Now he knew what a proper bed should be and what real care looked like. He knew who loved him, even if they were clumsy at showing it sometimes.

This wasn’t a step up from where he started. It was like fifteen solid steps down from what he deserved. That was wrong, and that needed to be fixed.

The first thing that stood out was that there was nobody else in the dungeon with him. He even stuck his head out between the bars to look up and down the hallway. Not even the obligatory stupid guard. He almost pulled himself back in when he realised…

Those bars had been made to keep  _ grown-ass adults _ captive!

They weren’t made for a tiny little boy like himself!

Angus grinned as he slipped through the bars like a watermelon pip through a summer child’s lips. He took a moment to undo his shoes and hang them around his neck so that his feet would make less noise. He even muffled his shoes by wrapping them in his socks, so they wouldn’t mess up any future stealth checks, either. Using the right-hand rule, he explored the entirety of the dungeon, not finding anything more threatening than an elderly rat.

So. Mom wasn’t here. Neither was Dad.

_ Wait. Am I thinking of Miss Mak’arune and Magnus Burnsides as my parents? _ An insight check revealed that - yes, he sure was. Wow. The things you learn in extremis, huh?

But that wasn’t important, not yet anyway. He had to find out what had happened. The nice man who had  _ looked _ like a watchman was now wearing way fancier clothes, even if they were three degrees of filthy. He was also bossing around some other people who were built like brick smokehouses. They were armed to the teeth, too.

“No gold, no fight,” said one of them - potentially a barbarian.

“You said we were retrieving stolen property, Kalen, not some girl who don’t speak.” 

Uh oh. It sounded like that one was talking about Mom. Angus got low and risked a peek. Yep. One of them had Mom, though she was dressed like a maid and had an oddly blank look in her eyes.

She didn’t see him. She didn’t see anyone.

Angus ducked back into hiding. This Kalen fellow had done something horrible to Mom! He’d dominated her will, or cast Feeblemind or Charmed her or…  _ Focus. Listen and learn, Angus. Find out what’s going on and then figure out what you can use. _

It was a trick Mr Taako had inadvertently taught him, when the magical cooking Elf was rambling about his show. Sometimes, he said, you had to take what you’d got and run with it. Well, that was the best advice he had in his life, so… he did that.

He had his ears, his eyes, and his wits. He had his small size that made him ideal for fitting into sconces or under furniture or even inside some. That, and the ability to be overlooked easily. He wasn't going to bank on that last one, though. These people would soon discover that Angus wasn't in his cell and start looking for him.

"You're getting paid, what do you care?" Kalen demanded.

"... not enough, I reckon," mumbled a third.

"Not nearly regular, neither." So. There were four of them. Four mercenaries.

"When the job is over and that Fighter is eliminated, you’ll get your reward,” said Kalen.

That sounded as suspicious as all hell. It sounded like every bad guy from every penny play in the whole of Faerun. There was bound to be a sudden and inevitable betrayal for sure.

Angus worried about Dad. He could take on three guys, easy, but… four? Four mercenaries plus whatever Kalen could do? He was going to wind up dead if Angus didn’t do something.

It was way past time to Home Alone this shit.

Angus snuck away. Mom was… kind of okay. Angus would find a way to break that spell at a later date. What mattered was reducing the abilities of all the other guys so Dad would stand a chance.

The layout of this place was way too familiar. Too much like Sunshine Home, in fact. On one hand, he already knew like a hundred and one secret ways to sneak around the place. On the other hand… he kept seeing Nurse Stronginthearm or Mr Thud out of the corners of his vision and nearly freaking himself out.

The laundry room had been quickly converted to an armory, and most of the weapons lay waiting for the Mercenaries to equip them. According to the things Angus heard whilst hiding in the dumbwaiter shafts and laundry chutes, Dad was expected to rush in and give them all plenty of warning in the process.

All the better for Angus, who doused the insides of their armour with caustic soda and poured Fantasy Crazy Glue into their scabbards and quivers. Next, he found the kitchens, where Mom seemed more than content to be peeling potatoes for a big, bubbling pot of stew. Well, a big, bubbling pot of stew and some kind of roast haunch and vegetables busy basting in the oven.

Angus crawled out of the dumbwaiter and, after a quick check to make sure no-one was around, went to Mom.

She didn’t seem to recognise him. She didn’t seem able to speak, though her mouth did form shapes as if to whisper, ‘baby’, but no sound came out of her.

It was just like when he met her. The light had been fading and he was cold and scared and hungry, having wandered around all day and gotten lost. She just… turned up. Sprouting out of the bushes… and all she’d said was, “Baby…”

“That’s right,” he whispered, “I’m your baby, remember? Your name’s Mak’arune.”

She shook her head, and held out a wrist. There was a silver placard on a silver chain, and the placard only had one word in Common on it.  _ Mary. _

“I’ll find your real name,” he hoped. “But I gotta know. What does Kalen make you eat?”

She pointed. Not to the stew pot, but to the gently-cooking roast.

Kalen was using her as a taste-tester, too. Making sure  _ his _ meals weren’t poisoned by feeding them to Mom first. On one hand - nasty. On the other hand… Angus was free to give those mercenaries a really nasty case of the colliwobbles.

He crept off, finding the medicinal supplies and ‘liberating’ a large brown bottle of cascara. He returned to pour some into the stew. Not enough to alter its taste or smell but, he hoped, enough to incapacitate the mercenaries.

“Please don’t eat any of the stew,” he whispered. Angus decided to chance it. “Please, mom?”

There was a slight flicker of anguish in Mom’s eyes, just for an instant, and then they went blank as Mom - or whatever was using Mom’s body - nodded.

Brr. Creepy.

“Don’t tell anyone I was here, okay? Not until Dad turns up. Okay?”

Nod. She didn’t even raise her finger to her lips.

Well. That was all he could really do without finding a bag of ball bearings or something else to mess up their day. He could add honey to their wash-water, but that would just give Mom extra work. Angus focussed instead on searching for the wooden name bracelet Dad had made.

If it was anywhere, Kalen probably had it with him to taunt Dad with before a dramatic reveal of an enslaved Mak’arune.

That made Angus want to puke.

He really wanted to do something horrible to Kalen. Something nasty and vile, but… whatever he exposed himself to, he made Mom get there first. He used her as a shield like he could throw her away as if she was nothing. Nobody deserved to have that sort of thing happening to them.

Angus found a tower where one of the Mercenaries watched the most obvious approach. He stayed at a lower window pointed the allegedly wrong way and rolled will saves to try not to cry. He was, at the end of the day, too small and weak to do anything important. He could mess up the enemy, but… not the biggest enemy of the group. He could get to Mom, but… not all the way. He could see Dad and some wizard sneaking in by the back path.

Wait. What?

Dad and… That golden hair had to belong to Mr Taako.

Strike feeling useless, he could do one more thing to help his family. He could sneak down to the back entrance and unlock the doors and gates.

_ Sneak attack, you bastard… _


	6. Chapter 6

Magnus had to admit it, he was impressed. This kid could make a really good rogue, some day. The first clue was the door opening by itself before Magnus could raise his axe or Taako could raise his wand. The second clue was tiny little Angus on the other side who whispered, “Hello, sirs. Please roll your best stealth checks, I don’t think the cascara’s kicked in quite yet.”

There was the distant sound of someone vomiting.

“Oh wait. There it goes.”

“Have I told you lately how awesome you are?” said Magnus.

“Not today, sir.”

“Well, let’s save it for after the boss battle,” said Taako. “Quick skinny, kid. How many and how much trouble are they?”

“There’s four mercenaries and Kalen, sir. As for how much trouble…” a bell went off.

Someone in the complex shouted, “The kid’s escaped!”

Someone else shouted, “My armour! It burns!”

“I pulled a few tricks on them, sirs.”

Someone, very noisily, threw up.

Taako lightly punched Magnus’ arm and said, “You watch out, I might wanna steal this baby. I like your style, kiddo.”

Angus almost glowed with the praise. “This way, sirs. I know where Kalen likes to have his dinner.”

There was still one guard in the way. Fighting the forces of caustic soda, Fantasy Crazy Glue, and cascara all at once.

Three eggs to the head and a sword to the spleen quickly knocked him out of the running, all the same. More or less the same happened to the other guard that made it up from the dungeons, though he was halfway through passing out from poison damage anyway.

Angus was unperturbed. “There’s two more mercenaries that I know of, sir. As well as Kalen.”

“You sure you’re okay with all this, pumpkin?” worried Taako.

Then that little tiny boy, not much more than six, said the most chilling collection of words Magnus had ever heard from a small child. “I’ve watched people die before, sir.”

“Crouching nerd, hidden badass. I  _ like _ this kid,” cheered Taako. “I’m  _ definitely _ stealing this baby.”

“We’ll arm-wrestle over him later,” said Magnus.

The other two mercenaries were incapacitated. One, thanks to the cascara, and the other from the caustic soda inside his armour. He had stripped it off, but had fallen unconscious from blood loss.

Nevertheless, Kalen was waiting for them in his office. One arm around Mak’arune’s shoulders, and a dagger pressed close to her neck.

Mak’arune… looked just as vacant and un-wilful as the day he’d first met her. Just as empty of thought as she had been when… When Kalen  _ owned _ her.

Magnus froze, and so did Taako. So did Angus.

“I thought that might stop you,” he said. “You value this worthless wretch.”

“So do you,” said Taako. “You stole her back, right? She must’a cost you a lot, I mean… A half-elf fully trained by Saint Vingo’s? Those are worth a fuckton of gold.”

“A fuckton of fucktons,” corrected Kalen. “Not that it matters to you, because you’re going to let me walk away.”

“Actually, hombre, I think you’re less than likely to harm your investment there. She’s the perfect servant. Obedient, docile…  _ silent. _ Only people who’d know better would be able to tell at all that she has no free will of her own. You just can’t get help like that any more.” 

“True,” said Kalen. “But I might just want to kill her anyway. Even  _ half _ Elves are a walking fortune in Dark Magic Ingredients. You can’t get good money like that, any more, either.”

He reached up into his hat and pulled out the Orb of Recall from where he’d hid it. “Just like you can’t get better justice than if this little bauble gets out to the yellow press…” He moved his wand over it.

_ ...yeerpyipwipyibble… “A half-elf fully trained by Saint Vingo’s?” ...wippayippayipyap… “Even half Elves are a walking fortune in Dark Magic Ingredients.” _

“Wow, sir,” said Angus, “That sounds really illegal. Almost as illegal as kidnapping and extortion.”

“You got dirt on us,” Taako started doing the Fantasy Labyrinth thing with the orb. “We got dirt on you… and you don’t know how many  _ other _ Orbs of Recall we got on us, either. The only question you got left is - how lucky do you feel?”

“You should’a gone for,  _ Do you feel lucky, punk? Do ya?” _ said Magnus.

Angus had a little trinket. A wooden plaque with woven ribbons attached to either side. “I have your name,” he said. “Your real one.”

Taako said,  _ “Go limp,” _ in Elven.

Kalen lost control of the situation in short order. Suddenly burdened with Mak’arune’s dead weight, he fumbled the knife. That gave Magnus an attack opportunity. Taako wasn’t far behind with his Magic Missile.

He didn’t care about Kalen, at that moment. All he cared about was getting Mak’arune the hell out of there. Well, Mak’arune  _ and _ the kid, but Angus was pretty quick even on his bare feet. They were well away and into the night before they stopped to assess things.

Her name had helped, he remembered. The first thing he had done to break Kalen’s grip on her was to use her name. Therefore, he and Angus tied the wooden plaque to her wrist, and Magnus broke the fine silver chain that held the word  _ Mary. _ “Mak’arune,” he said into her ear. “Mak’arune, it’s okay. You’re safe. You can come back to me now. Come on back out.”

She had been limply draped in his arms, but now her fist clenched against his red shirt. Her breath drew in raggedly and she curled in on herself.

“Don’t pat her head,” cautioned Taako. “The bitch queen used’a do that to all the kids. Just. Don’t.”

Mak’arune began to sob. Angus joined with Magnus in holding her. Taako… sort of faded away from the group. Whenever Magnus looked, the Elven chef was checking the roads and paths, ostensibly maintaining a lookout.

“It’s okay,” Magnus murmured. “You’re safe now. It’s okay.”

“Mmm… Mag… nus,” she managed.

His heart nearly burst from all the joy inside it. He wanted to squeeze all his love into her, but he restrained himself. “Yeah, that’s me. I got you.”

“I let him,” she sobbed. “I let him… I vanished…”

Taako said, “You survived.” He was still allegedly looking out, but it was a half-assed effort. “You did what you know worked to make it through the bad place. It only feels bad now ‘cause you know how to be better. Trust ch’boy. Instincts like that fucking suck.”

Mak’arune nodded. She was shaking. “Want safe.”

“Okay with me carrying you?” Magnus volunteered.

Nod.

Angus said, “We shouldn’t go back to the inn, sir. Mom was staying in the kitchens, there, and if Kalen makes it, he’d know where to look. That, and I’m pretty certain he had an agent or two working there to get us.”

Taako checked the time. “Fantasy Jesus… I’m missing my own show. You lot can hide in the camp until we figure somethin’ else out, I guess.”

It was a long dash away from Kalen’s hide-out to the campgrounds, even with the strongest of anxieties spurring them on. Despite their best efforts, they arrived at Taako’s camp just as Sazed was finishing up the show. He had obviously tried something way outside his skill range and the people who actually hung around for the serving were throwing their food on the ground after one taste.

“There the fuck you are,” Sazed shouted as the last of the disappointed crowd vanished into the night. “What the hell was  _ this?” _ He had a note in his breast pocket. On it were two words and a lipstick mark.

_ Back soon. _

“I didn’t have a lot of time, homie. Lives were at stake. Women and children first, you dig?”

Sazed sighed. “Of fucking course it’s Lunk McGunk. Are you in love with this manbeef or what?”

Taako was busy freaking out over the spilled food. “That was forty gold’s worth of ingredients! What the  _ fuck, _ Suze?”

“I already did the bread show for lunch. You were gone for hours! No clue where you were, no idea how long you were gonna be… No hints as to whether you expected to live or die! I had to do  _ something, _ and you were haring off after--” he sputtered and gestured at the rest of the group. “Lunk, Dolly, and the pipsqueak.”

“Not cool, Suzu. They got bigger troubles than your inability to make a decent chicken bisque.”

“It was cream of mushroom with extras!”

Taako was in the Stage Wagon and sipping from a sample spoon. “Uuuurrggghh… Did you taste  _ any _ of this?”

“Of course not! I don’t wanna get fat like you did!”

Taako took a big spoon of the alleged soup, and carried it over to Sazed. He held the Humanman’s nose until he had to open his mouth and forced some in there.

“GODS! That is the grossest thing I ever tasted! Why’d you  _ do _ that to me?”

“The better question is why you’d do that to our fucking customers, dipweed. You’re fired. Pack your shit or pick it up outta the weeds.”

“What? What’d  _ I _ do?”

“Want another spoonful? Also, that ‘dolly’ thing, _and_ the fatphobia. I’d take you to task about the homophobia, too, but three is plenty. Vamoose or get vamoosed.”

“You can’t do this to me!”

“I still got plenty of spell slots, asshole, don’t test me.” Taako raised his wand. “Ten.”

Grumbling, Sazed started unpacking his shit from the caravan.

Taako put his wand away in his hair and started cooking something low-effort in the camp cauldron. He was stony-faced, but Magnus could somehow tell that Taako was upset. Mak’arune huddled by the fire and Angus was happy to assist however he was able to help, so Magnus acted as a walking wall between Taako and Sazed.

Only once the sour Human was gone with his bag of stuff, did he allow himself to come and sit by Mak’arune. She accepted his embrace, as she accepted Angus wrapping himself around her.

Taako, still distant from the group, offered her his hand. “It’s gonna be okay. You made it out the other side, okay?”

Mak’arune seized his arm and pulled him into the group hug.

Taako didn’t protest too much.


	7. Chapter 7

The new group left Sazed behind in Thallewind with enough gold to start his life over and the random shit he’d accumulated in five-and-a-bit years. He did not get a fond farewell. Too much bullshit had been said and done for that to happen.

According to Taako, they cleared out of Thallewind early, but after that disastrous last show, he couldn’t do anything less. Mags drove the train well, thanks to his vehicle proficiency, which allowed Taako to try meditation again.

“It’s not my strong point. Not since Vingo’s,” Taako confessed to Ango and Mak in the caravan. Mak was busy putting flower embroidery on one of his Wizarding Shirts and Ango was in the middle of a book. “It works better when there’s someone I trust to watch over me, and… well… I trust you guys better than…  _ him.” _

There was no question as to who ‘him’ was.

Mak kept sewing. “Thank you.”

“I’m’a try going under. If you fuck with me, that trust evaporates.”

“Understood, sir,” said Ango.

“Cool.” He made himself as comfortable as he could focussed on his breathing… and was falling through his memories. So much buried in the snow of forgetfulness. If he let himself worry about that, he would emerge with a headache and a complete waste of his time because he would be totally drained.

Nevertheless, there was something missing. Something lost. Something gone in the mist and fog of things he had forgotten. Something close and terrible and unfortunate to lose and the hollow it left just… ached.

He accepted it. There was nothing else to do but accept his scars.

Taako sought the moments of peace. A beautiful dawn, watching mist rise from lakes or pools. The meditation of grinding grains in a quirn. Cooking with Aunty. Snuggling with his mother. Taming a deer to ride between one place and another.

There were few moments of his life when things were sympatico. He immersed himself in all of them. Recreating the profound peace he salvaged in those moments.

He still emerged with tears on his cheeks and the sense of aching loss. Something important was missing. Something profound and enormous and unnameable.

“Are you okay, sir?”

Taako dabbed at his face. Even the washcloths had flowers on them, thanks to Mak. Taako didn’t mind it. Everyone who survived Vingo’s had their automatic habits. His was sweeping out hearths or rooms or both. Provided, of course, there was a brush or a broom he could easily lay his hands on. It had taken him thirty years to even try to break that habit, and he still found himself doing it from time to time.

Compared to that, flowers weren’t so bad.

He’d have to buy her some special embroidery thread before she got to his chef’s whites. Cream, yellow, and other pale colours. Things that would show the dirt. Mak liked vibrant colours, he knew, but for the show? People liked to know that a chef was clean. Vibrant colours would read badly. Explaining that to her would be far, far better than getting angry about the inevitable.

“How long was I under?”

“Two hours, sir. That’s a record.”

Angus’ ‘sir’s and ‘ma’am’s seemed to be something of a verbal tic. Something Sunshine left him with, like Vingo’s left a veneer of subservience or an echo of its habits on himself and Mak. Taako didn’t correct him. He barely got over casually showing affection to these new people. Closeness was not a habit he got into very easily. He made an effort for these three.

Broken. Scarred. Hurting. Trying to heal each other as best they could. Trying to help despite their impairments or even because of them. Taako may have more experience with dealing with all that bullshit, helping the others through it just seemed to make it all fair.

“I’m’a check what time we got before Hallowvale, then have another try at it.” He got up and stretched. Even a half rest was energising. He felt better than he had in years as he crossed between the caravan, then the Stage Wagon, and then up to the driver’s seat for the whole train. “How goes, m’man? How far to Hallowvale?”

“Half a day at this pace.”

“Cool. Thanks. Gonna have another go at meditating.”

“Any progress?”

“Better than normal.”

“Sweet.”

He made his way back and Mak was adding flowers to the nightshirts. Thank the gods she hadn’t found the merch crates. She would need a project to do if he didn’t want flowers on everything they had.

So much to consider. So little to do about it.

Taako settled and attempted to meditate on solutions instead of his past. Perhaps the yawning gulf of emptiness in his soul wouldn’t bother him when he pondered the solutions of his future. Mak and Ango and the bear up the front. They’d all need feeding and three were more expensive to feed than one. More gold required more sales. More sales required more merch. More merch… maybe Mak’s busy hands could help, there. She could turn cheap fabric and thread into works of art that would earn them more gold just from the time she spent making them.

Yeah. That felt like the right option.

When he came out of it, Ango was aping his meditative pose, breathing with. He wasn’t deep into it because he wasn’t floating.

“Get anything good outta that, pumpkin?”

Ango startled with a snort. “Sorry, sir, I think I almost fell asleep.”

“That’s a Humanman habit,” awkward, Taako ruffled his curly hair. Yeah, those were half-eleven points on those cute brown ears. “You’ll get it. I can guide you tonight. Mak? You in for some guidance?”

“Okay,” she said.

“Sweet.”

From there, it was simply a matter of setting up camp and finding out what kind of menu they could have, starting with the next day’s show.


	8. Chapter 8

Orlumbor was fairly welcoming, even for such a disparate family as the one attached to  _ Sizzle it Up! With Taako. _ None of them were related, even people who rolled low on their perception check could tell that. One Sun Elf. Two half-elves. One Humanman, who was pretty damn proficient at driving the train. For all that diversity, it was amazing how well they worked together. Even the dimmest of bulbs could tell they were a team. It was the matching flowers on everything they wore. They were a dead give-away.

What puzzled most of the casual observers was who might be related to whom. Or rather, the relationships they filled for each other. Found family was no stranger to the assembled throngs of Faerun, not even to little backwater places like Urgynholt. Disasters of every kind had disrupted what one might think of as the traditional familial ties.

There were Halflings out there who were adopting Orcs, Tieflings, and any other abandoned creature that could speak Common.

Taako could be jealous of them if he could be convinced to give a rat’s ass. They found their families. Hooray for them. He had his own way, now.

His chef whites were now decorated with delicate pastel flower embroidery, as was his toque. Every single garment they owned had flowers on them, by now. Taako leaned into the aesthetic and picked out matching flowers for his wizarding hat.

“Feel like being on stage, Mak?”

Mak’arune shook her head.

“How ‘bout you, punkin? Ready for some spotlight?” Taako checked the highlights of his makeup. Nice and even. Good.

Mango said, “Naw, I think I’m better off with the heavy lifting and the merch table.”

“I was talkin’ to the little guy, m’dude.”

“...aaawww…” muttered Magnus. He was goofing. He was always goofing.

“I love to help, sir,” piped up Angus. Taako had been a great influence on him. More accurately, Taako had been a great influence on his wardrobe. Angus’ clothing was far more flamboyant, vibrant, and, thanks to Mak’arune, also covered in flowers. In brief, he was hard to miss in a crowd.

His hair was growing out from its Sunshine Home buzz cut, though it would not form ringlets despite Taako’s best efforts, the kid was still adorable as fuck. Taako dusted his eyelids with a little organic glitter. “Beautiful. Let’s go.”

Magnus was out the front. “He’s been all over Faerun, he’s cooked just about every edible creature you can imagine, he’s faced every challenge and come out smiling. Ladies, gentlemen, and others, put your hands together for the marvellous, the magical, the magnificent TAAKO!”

The applause, the oohs and aahs as he used Prestidigitation to shower sparks around himself and Ango as they entered the Stage. “Hail and well met, Urgynholt. You might have guessed that I’m Taako, you know, from TV. Today is a very special day because I have my lovely little happy helper Angus,” he pulled out the step-stool with one foot and helped the boy up on it so the audience could see more than his fancy fascinator. “Say hello, Angus.”

Right on cue, “Hello, Angus!”

The audience aaawww’d and a few ovaries may have exploded.

“Isn’t he adorable?” said Taako, milking it a little bit. “Those of you working with little ones in the kitchen like our Angus might think that all kids are good for is getting underfoot. That’s the wrong way of looking at it. What you have is someone with a lot more energy at the end of the day than you do. So let’s divide the work. I, as the grown-ass adult, handle all the dangerous stuff, and our dear little Ango helps out with literally everything else…”

The show began, and soon things were sizzling just like the banner said. Delicious smells were one thing that kept the audience captivated, so did a few little zips and zaps of magic. A few goofs from Ango, a few from Magnuts. Even one or two from Mak as she helped with some of the mise en place.

They laughed in the right places. They applauded in the right places. They oohed and aaahed and wowed in the right places. Then they bought seconds and merch and autographs and even a few kisses. From  _ all _ the staff.

He’d never been this successful when Sazed was around.

These three had a golden stage presence, even when they were heckling from the peanut gallery and providing free goofs for the local bards. It was delightful.

Even more delightful was family shopping trips. Nobody just  _ got _ Taako right out of the box. Except Magnus. That big, loveable doofus just knew what to say and do to get on Taako’s good side. It was like they were born under the same star or something.

Today, in Urgynholt, he decided to test it.

The entire, unlikely family were walking hand in hand like they were born to do it. On the wide streets, it made no difference at all to traffic flow. Taako felt so good about these months together that he just had to sing, “THERE WE WERE JUST-A WALKIN’ DOWN THE STREET, SINGIN--”

Magnus joined in like he had done it for a hundred years, “DO WAH DIDDY DIDDY DUM DIDDY DO!”

Oh, but this was perfect. Angus was the next to join in and, after a couple of choruses, Taako could even hear Mak’arune singing along.

They all looked like idiots, and he knew it. He didn’t give a flying shit.

For the first time in perhaps his entire, miserable life… Taako was happy.

Which was why Glamour Springs was such an intense blow.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Offensensitivity warning for Glamour Springs aftermath, death and dying, and bucketloads of angst.

The Stage Wagon was on fire. Mak’arune was standing in the middle of the campground looking like Kalen had come back or the legendary Citron had come by to rule her all over again. Angus was crying. Magnus had no idea what was going on and Taako? Taako was just…  _ gone. _

Too many people were dying.

Too many people were dead.

He couldn’t help any of them.

There was no more show. No more food. No more  _ Sizzle it Up! _ with anyone. No-one else to blame but the star of the show… _ and his accessories to murder… _

Reluctantly, carefully, Magnus Burnsides scooped up the other two members of his family, bundled them wholesale into the Traveller’s Caravan, and left the scene of the crime.

It would be a long time before anyone would come looking for--

_ \--brothers, sisters, mothers, husbands, children… lying scattered on the green where they died… _

It would be a long time before anyone would ask who had a chance to see it all. Why they’d do it. Who could do it.

_ Taako didn’t mean it. Magnus could see it in his eyes. He was just as horrified as everyone else was. _

“Sir? Where are we going, sir?”

Magnus couldn’t think of anything smart, so he said, “I’m tryin’a find Taako. He’s all alone out there.”

Ango pointed. “...went that way, sir.”

He steered the caravan that way. Deeper into the less travelled pathways. Deeper into less explored territory. Further into areas that would never have heard of Taako or the magic cooking show with the beautiful Elf on centre stage. Further into places where they would just be another travelling family on there way to there from here.

Magnus said, “How’s mom?”

Angus shook his head. “I can’t get her to say anything. I can’t get her to do anything. She can blink and she can breathe, but… she’s not at home, sir.”

Magnus didn’t say a word about Ango’s verbal tic. That habitual ‘sir’ only came out when he was stressed to fuck and pointing it out would only make things worse. “We’ll deal with things one at a time,” he decided. “Mom’s going to be okay in the caravan while we look for Uncle Taako. I need your super perception and insight to help find our dude, okay? You up for that, little man?”

“Yessir.” Angus nodded and immediately looked worried. “Could you slow down sir? Uncle Taako’s taken some care to conceal his tracks, now.”

Magnus did that.

He tried not to worry about where that trail was leading. Tried not to think about what would happen when Angus could no longer find clues leading to Taako’s whereabouts. Tried not to fret about what would happen when they had to leave the caravan, and Mak’arune helpless and unresponsive inside of it.

There was a dangerous world out there, and Magnus didn’t like the option of either leaving Ango to explore on his own, or Mak’arune in her doll-like state in a caravan that few would be able to even find.

There had to be a third option.

He had to find it sooner than he liked. The goat trail narrowed to the point where the caravan could no longer pass.

Fuck.

Time to improvise.

Mak’arune was exactly as he had left her. Alarming.

“I’m sorry, but I can’t leave you alone like this. I gotta take you with…” He was gentle as hell, picking her up, and terrified that she went as limp as a wet rag. “Come on back to me. Please. I don’t wanna have to do this. Please…”

Mak’arune didn’t say a word. She didn’t do a thing, either. Magnus sighed with extreme regret and at least  _ tried _ to piggyback Mak’arune. It was like trying to piggyback sacks of wet spaghetti. He had to hold her up with one arm, loaning her whatever thin dignity he had available.

After that, it was simply a matter of catching up with Angus before he had trouble. Much though he loved that kid, he did have a tendency to find trouble before it was lost. Fortunately, he had completely failed to find any Dire Wolves, Dire Bears, Dire Wasps, Gerblins, or any of the many, many threats to adventurers serious and accidental.

Magnus arrived just in time to prevent Ango from discovering what Poison Oak (a) was, and (b) was like. He had to use his spare arm to pull him back.  _ “You _ don’t have Float,” he said, “Go around.”

“But, sir, I’m hot on the trail…”

“It’d be a trail of woe if you went through that junk,” insisted Magnus. “That’s Poison Oak. Bad, bad news.”

Angus went around and found the trail again. Not much of one, though. He looked around in circles for a pace of time and found small marks on a tree.

A tree favoured by Elves for making their enormous family house-trees out of. Magnus looked up to discover that Taako had woven something of a one-Elf cote out of the branches high above. Way  _ too _ high above. If he tried to climb up there - with or without Mak’arune in his arms - he would likely break his fool neck.

“Taako! I know you’re up there!”

“Who’s Taako?” said Taako’s voice, too high above.

Angus piped up, “Quit jerking us around, sir! We need you!”

“Taako isn’t here, m’man.”

It took some picking around the base of the tree, but he found a spot where he could maybe glimpse one of Taako’s boots. He had no doubt that Taako could see him. See  _ them, _ and the fix they were in as a direct result.

“Buddy,” he said. “Mak’s gone down deep and I dunno how to get her back. You know I can’t cook for shit, so how’m I supposed’a feed Ango? C’mon… at least come down and talk.”

Silence inside the woven branches. It stretched for long enough to feel Mak’arune growing heavy on his shoulder and his feet to turn his soles into pure agony just from standing there. Magnus couldn’t name the exact second that he started weeping, but it was somewhere in there. “Taako… please, we need you.”

Now that reedy voice was shaking with emotion. “...i fed forty people their deaths… y’ c’n do better’n me…”

Angus said, “You didn’t mean to, sir.”

“It’s gonna be okay,” Magnus promised. “We’ll figure something out. We’ll find some way to get through this. It’s just… we work better… as a family.”

“Please, sir?” said Angus. “Mom needs you. Dad needs you. I need you. We all… need you.”

Taako was already climbing down. He looked naked without his Chef’s Whites. He looked worse than naked without his hat. He looked… completely devastated.

“I ran away so I wouldn’t hurt anyone any more.”

Magnus gathered him up in his other arm. “It was a mistake, Taako. Anyone could make a mistake. You didn’t mean it. You didn’t mean to hurt anyone.”

Taako let loose an ugly sob. Magnus carried both of them back to the caravan, trailed by Angus all the way.

It felt better to have all this weird little family together. He could dream that he was keeping them all safe when they were in his arms. At least… he knew they were all safe there. Safe, for the moment, from the cruelties of the world.

Mak’arune’s slight hand brushed the hot water from his cheeks. She still had that hollow look about herself, but she was starting to come back.

“Hey,” he said in Elven. “Feel free to be yourself, okay?” Commands like that had freed her once. Commands like that could bring her back.

He hoped.

Angus was conked out in one of the beds. Taako was a moist, dead weight in his arms, but Mak’arune was coming back to life.

“It’s going to be okay,” he repeated. More for himself than anyone who could hear him.

Tonight, he was lost and alone and terrified, but at least his family was close. Tomorrow…

Tomorrow they could begin to deal.


	10. Chapter 10

One Month Later.

They were a small, patchwork family. Just like hundreds of small, patchwork families all over Faerun. They had a caravan and wandered to wherever the work was. The young half-Elf woman did needlework, cookery, and cleaning. The big Humanman did woodwork, sold his sword, or got involved in heavy lifting. The little half-Elf kid was shockingly sharp, and helped the Watch with any of their unsolved cases.

As far as the casual observers were concerned nobody could figure out what the Elf was good for. He lit the fire and drove the wagon, but most of the time he just sat and stared into nothing. He would keep a watch out over the half-Elves, but he didn’t say or do very much at all.

They struggled along, as many little patchwork families struggled along. Making enough coin from their collected efforts to move on to what they hoped were greener pastures. To where they hoped there would be better work.

Nobody saw the Elf eat. Not a whole meal. He would taste small portions, if that, but he never sat for a full portion of anything. If anyone had been bothered to watch the family for that month or past it, they’d have seen weight melting off that Elf like wax off a candle.

They were headed towards Neverwinter. There was  _ always _ work in Neverwinter. Whether or not they had enough gold to get there was up to their ability to get some in the next town.

This is a pretty little Traveller’s caravan with a patchwork family, making their collective way between one place and another.

Right now? It’s hard to tell who the parent is.

The Humanman was sitting sort-of backwards on the driver’s bench. He had a bowl of something and a spoon.

“C’mon Taako. You need to eat.”

“...not hungry,” mumbled Taako.

“Don’t make me do Dove Spoons, dude.”

“...you wouldn’t fucking dare, Mags.”

Mags scooped up a spoonful and singsonged, “Here comes the dove to feed her nestlings… coo. Coo.”

“That’s a fuckin’ horseshit impersona--Umpf.” There was a glaring silence between Taako and Mags. A combat of wills between Elf and Humanman.

“Chew and swallow,” insisted Mags.

Taako glared at the Humanman for further minutes.

“We both know you won’t spit out good food, buddy,” said Mags.

Maybe he wouldn’t. Maybe he would. What could have happened uninterrupted is lost in a different reality, because that was when an arrow shaft narrowly missed Taako’s nose and embedded itself into the wood of the caravan.

Taako swallowed, even as he pulled at the reins.

“That’s right,” said the Bandit Leader. “Stand and deliver.”

Taako was busy trying not to choke on his unchewed mouthful. Mags put the bowl down and said, “Uh. We… don’t have a lot to spare.”

There was a Tabaxi, an Orc, a Bugbear and a Dwarf. At least, those were the ones who were out in the open. There could be any number of others hidden in the turning Autumn leaves.

“Well,” said the Orc leader, flexing his muscles as he twirled his weapon. “Maybe we’ll just skip to the killing.”

“Uuuuhhh,” said the Dwarf. “You told me that wasn’t company policy…”

“Shaddup, Merle,” said the Tabaxi. “You weren’t complaining the last time we had stew.”

“Wait,” murmured the Bugbear. “You didn’t tell him that was my world-famous Victim Ghoulash? I am  _ insulted…” _

The Dwarf -Merle- looked nauseated.

“Come on, we all know the Cleric’s a bit  _ sensitive,” _ here, ‘sensitive’ is pronounced,  _ pansy-ass snowflake who still has morals. _

“We… ate  _ people? _ I didn’t wanna eat people.”

“And it was called Soylent Green,” murmured Mags, who couldn’t help himself, even though he should have. Interestingly, Taako and Merle were the only ones who laughed at that goof.

“Oh, we are definitely killing these fuckers, now,” decided the Orc.

That was when something weird happened.

It looked like a firefly, but no firefly had ever flown so straight nor so fast. No firefly had ever set an Orc on fire nor done 1D10 damage upon impact.

Taako, actual first on the initiative roll, used his opportunity to cast some Magic Missiles at the Tabaxi, the Orc, and the Bugbear.

Mags readied his axe and sized up the four, only to be surprised by Merle, who used his hammer to take out the Bugbear’s knee. “Screw these guys,” yelled Merle. “I’m sick of being a mercenary anyway.”

Mags shrugged and leaped for the Tabaxi, axe swinging.

It was over fairly quickly, and the silence afterwards was punctuated by a voice inside the caravan whimpering about fire.

“Aw shit,” said Taako, ducking inside the caravan.

Merle, who had done the scouting, wiped his hammer clean. “So now I’m unemployed. Mind if I hitch a ride with you guys for a while? I don’t take up much space and I’m good for a few tricks.”

Mags, the only person out in the open, started to look nervous. “Uuuuhhh… It’s… I’m… This isn’t  _ my _ caravan. Uhm. Taako  _ can _ be generous? But… We wanna be sure you’re not planning to eat us.”

Taako’s muffled voice seemed to be calming the fears of two voices inside the caravan.

“Well, it’s not exactly the worlds’ safest road. There’s fucking canibal bandits out here. It’s not good manners to leave anyone alone with shit like that.”

“It’s not good manners to eat people, either,” Mags countered, “but here we are.”

“I didn’t know I was eating people!”

One of the small voices in the caravan wailed, “He’s gonna eat us!”

Merle sighed and waddled around to the rear of the caravan, where Taako had left the larger door open. Inside were three Elven figures. Taako, and two smaller half-Elves. One pale and one dark. The pale one was mumbling ‘fire’ over and over in a disturbed and disturbing voice. The younger, darker kid was crying about cannibals and, at the sight of Merle, burst into hysterics.

“HE’S GONNA EAT US! HE’S GONNA EAT US! PAPA, PAPA, HE’S GONNA EAT US! I’M TOO YOUNG TO DIEEEEE…”

“Cool your jets,” Merle rumbled. “I’m not gonna eat anyone. I never wanted to in the first place.”

“DON’T LET HIM EAT ME UP, PAPAAAAAA!”

Merle snapped, yelling, “I MIGHT IF IT’LL SHUT YOU UP!”

The babiest of the kids whimpered and covered his mouth with both hands.

“Homeslice,” warned Taako. “Check. The hat. Nobody is hurting these kids on my watch.”

Ugh. He just couldn’t win. “Will… will everyone just… fucking chill? I don’t want to eat people and I certainly don’t want to hurt any kids… For Pan’s sake…”

“...fire,” whimpered the half-Elf girl. “...fire burns… much brighter…”

“Is she going to be okay?” Merle worried. He started digging through his pack. “I think I got some chamomile in here… That might be able to help calm her down. Elves can have chamomile, right?”

It was that, more than anything, that made Taako settle his hackles. “Yeah. Elves can have chamomile,” he said. He was already digging out a little pouch and a tiny, tiny clay pipe, “This is quicker.”

“Really?”

“It’s purely medicinal,” said Taako. “Ango, you get some fresh air with your dad.”

Merle, confounded by these instructions, tried to put two and two together. “So… you and the big guy are…?”

“Not interested. We just kind’a… cohabit outta necessity.” Taako was more interested in helping the half-Elf girl hold the pipe between her lips. Sparks flew from his fingers. “Breathe in, babe. Nice and deep…”

She did so, and smoke soon issued from her nose. It smelled like burning mulch.

“You’re helping a kid do  _ weeds,” _ tutted Merle.

“Medicinal,” repeated Taako. “It’s pure leaf. Not even single fluff.”

“Of course. Of fucking course this wizard-adjacent reprobate would be familiar with Elven drug culture. Of course! Why wouldn’t his life take this opportunity to get even suckier? What next? A fucking aval--”

Taako’s hand was over his mouth in instants. “Don’t ask questions like that, old man. The fates have ways of answering via demonstration.”

“Fire,” said the girl.

“Just a little one, Mak. Breathe in, now. Breathe in and make it go away.”

Another deep inhale. She was practically asleep and there was nothing left in that tiny clay bowl to burn.

“Now just the clean air. Deep, deep breath. Breathe with me.” Taako exaggerated his breaths and Mak meekly followed along. He gently soothed her hair and pulled her fingers out from their tight clench. “Can you tell me what’s bad about this fire?”

“Burning. Burning people. Burning the carriage… She told me to sit still. I had to sit still. It was burning. Burning all around me. I had to sit still.”

Taako looked Merle in the eye. Oh shit. Heterochromia. There was an old, horrible superstition about that particular mutation carrying curses. He said two words and Mak’s stilted soliloquy made sense. “Saint Vingo’s.”

Merle didn’t need to roll a History Check.  _ Everyone _ had heard about Saint Vingo’s. It was one of those happened-four-hundred-years-ago things that everyone tried to pretend was actually outside of living memory when there were  _ still _ survivors who were underaged. Saint Vingo’s had burned down and those who made it out of the flames were trapped behind the walls, eking out an existence and plotting escape for months before the civilised world could help them in the slightest.

Last Merle had heard about the entire mess, authorities were still looking for the evil mastermind behind it all, an Elf with delusions of godhood called Citron.

Merle said, “That was some bad stuff.”

“No shit,” said Taako. He peeked outside and said, “It’s all better, now. Come and see. There’s no fire any more.”

Merle got out of their way. True enough, someone had quenched any flame that the mystery firebolt had started. Mags, the big lug, was sweeping drifts of leaves over suspiciously robber-sized lumps off the side of the road.

Ango stopped bringing handfuls of leaves over and waved. “Hello, sir! Is Mom going to be okay?”

“No fire,” murmured Mak. She took a deep breath in, seemingly revitalising herself, and left Taako to scoop up Ango. “Baby! Good baby…”

“We’re all okay, mom.”

Merle was having trouble keeping up. “Wait. Who’s who to everyone?”

Magnus said, “It’s a patchwork family, don’t bother.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next segment for this thing is currently unfinished. I'm working on it. Promise.
> 
> In the meantime, if you want to support this artist, I have links to everything else I'm doing with what passes for my life over at internutter (dot) org - bookmark now and visit frequently. New content daily.


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